| "Life is short and full of blisters," sighed the elderly | | | | around the courthouse -- came down to the levee to |
| southern gentlemen as we exchanged confidences | | | | watch the goings on.Dad always took along a plug of |
| about our various problems.That seemed to sum up | | | | chewing tobacco to pass around and loosen the |
| our mutual outlook on the vagaries of human | | | | tongues of the old-timers. It didn't take much. I got to |
| existence, so we shook hands and went our separate | | | | keep the little, tin, brand tags on the plugs - such as "Tin |
| ways.That succinct sentence has returned to memory | | | | Star," "Red Coon," and "Bull of the Woods." They were |
| often since I first heard it several years ago - partly | | | | prized collectibles."You boys remember any of the old |
| because of its homey philosophy, but mostly because | | | | brags?" Dad would say, as he stuffed in a chaw of |
| it is a draught of cool water to this writer who has | | | | terbakker. Then I snapped to attention. One brag I |
| wandered long in a language desert searching for | | | | remember went something like this:"I'm half horse, half |
| oasises.I have come to realize that the colorful | | | | alligator, with a little touch of snapping turtle, clumb a |
| language of my youth in the South has nearly | | | | streak of lightning, slid down a locust tree a hundred |
| disappeared from the American scene. We speak in | | | | feet high, with a wildcat under each arm, and never |
| precise phrases, short sentences, business-like | | | | got a scratch. Whoopee-yip-ho!"I come to this country |
| declarations. Efficient, but drab.When I was growing up | | | | riding a catamount, whipping him over the head with a |
| "down home" it was common for folks to sprinkle their | | | | forty-five and picking my teeth with a rattlesnake, using |
| conversation with colloquialisms. "Shoveling smoke," or | | | | a cactus for a piller. Whe-e-e! I'm a two-gun cuss and |
| "Money thinks I'm dead," or "A day late, and a dollar | | | | a very bad man, and it won't do to monkey with me. |
| short," or "If they put your brains in a jaybird, it'd fly | | | | Whoopee! "I was raised in the backwoods, suckled by |
| backwards."What we need are more inventive talkers | | | | a grizzly bear, got nine rows of jaw teeth and holes |
| - like my Uncle Hooky Brown. He appreciated the fine | | | | punched for more, a double coat of hair, steel ribs, |
| points of discourse.Hooky dearly loved clerking in the | | | | boiler tube intestines, a barbed wire tail, and I don't give |
| general store at Bradford, Tennessee. He built up a big | | | | a damn where I drag it. Whoopee-wee-a-ha!"* * |
| trade because he was the best entertainment that | | | | *Frontiersmen took great pride in their personal yells, or |
| side of the Mississippi.At the conclusion of each sale, | | | | brags, elaborating on them through the years. |
| while sacking items purchased, he rattled off - in one | | | | Generally they were given preliminary to good-natured |
| breath -- a long list of improbable commodities the | | | | "tussling" or roughhousing.Brags also were a way of |
| customer might have forgotten to order. It was a | | | | announcing their presence at a strange saloon where |
| symphony of dialog in a minute waltz:"Thank you kindly, | | | | they wanted to make friends quickly. A creative brag |
| Miz Boone, and will there be anything else | | | | usually was rewarded with a free beer.A bar room |
| ckeyedpeasprunessealingwax | | | | sally went something like this:"Hey, look at me! I'm the |
| shfurniturepolishsilverpolish | | | | genuine article, a real double-acting engine. I'm a hard |
| intstickcheeseclothneedles | | | | customer that can lick any man here. If you don't |
| flowerseedssidemeatbuckshot or button hooks?" The | | | | believe it, step up and try me. I can out-run, out-jump, |
| spiel varied - depending on the customer's sense of | | | | out-swim, chaw more tabaccy and spit less, drink |
| humor. It was fun to try and figure out what he was | | | | more whiskey and keep soberer, than any man in |
| trying to get you to buy. You figure it out.Once in | | | | these localities. Come out some of you and die |
| awhile he would get caught by his tomfoolery. A sly | | | | decently, for I'm spieling fer a fight."* * *The best |
| customer would reply, "Why, yes, now that you | | | | roarers were river men who drifted up and down the |
| mention it. I'll have a dozen corset stays.""Yes, Mam," | | | | Mississippi without calling any place home until they got |
| Hooky would say without hesitation. "We're fresh out | | | | too old to haul a hawser. Once I heard this magnificent |
| just this morning. I'll have a box of them for you | | | | boast at the Caruthersville levee:"Yah-hoo! I'm the old |
| tomorrow. Would you care to make a ten-dollar | | | | original iron-jawed, brass-mounted, copper-bellied |
| deposit?"* * *Salty talkers in the olden days abounded | | | | corpse-maker from the wilds of Arkansaw. They call |
| everywhere. Hey-day of "rip-tail roarers" had nearly | | | | be Sudden Death and General Desolation. "Sired by a |
| vanished in my childhood as regular fare. Nonetheless, | | | | hurricane. Damn'd by an earthquake. Half-brother to |
| we kids in small, southern towns could still coax | | | | the cholera. Nearly related to the small pox on my |
| old-timers to recite the brags and yells they learned as | | | | mother's side. "Look at me! I take nineteen alligators |
| young ranch hands, lumberjacks or riverboat | | | | and a bar'l of whiskey for breakfast when I'm in robust |
| stevedores.Roars once were the fashion among | | | | health, and a bushel of rattlesnakes and a dead body |
| rough, hardworking men. They made a dent in my | | | | when I'm ailing. I split the everlasting rocks with my |
| youthful memory.When I was nine, at Caruthersville, | | | | glance, and I squench the thunder when I speak. |
| Missouri, my father would take me to the levee at the | | | | Whoo-op!"Stand back and give me room according to |
| foot of Main Street to watch the Mississippi cotton | | | | my strength. Blood's my natural drink, and the wails of |
| boats tie up for cotton bales.When there was loading, | | | | the dying is music to my ears. Cast your eyes on me, |
| the good old boys -- who usually whiled away the time | | | | gentlemen. |